


A Night in the Woods

by BloodWolf98



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Healing, M/M, Minor Injuries, Mushrooms, Staring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-19 03:20:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19348462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodWolf98/pseuds/BloodWolf98
Summary: This is a work for the Dean/Cas Reverse Bang 2019 with the following prompt:Dean is stumbling through a forest swathed in thick fog. His clothes were probably rather fancy when he set out, but now they are torn. There are strange glowy mushrooms, and the trees give off a weird vibe as well. A translucent, almost invisible being with wings, ie Cas, is either hiding from Dean or waiting to attack him





	A Night in the Woods

**Author's Note:**

> Art by [Deli](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19238548) (deliciousirony)  
> 
> 
>  

Dean drove along the quiet road singing along to the Led Zeppelin blasting through his speakers. The night was cold and his surroundings, shifting from thick trees to open patches and back again rapidly, were pitch black. The only light for miles came from his headlights. There were no other cars, and it was no wonder given the late hour.

Halfway through his rendition of the second chorus of _Ramble On_ , Dean passed a person on the side of the road. Dean thought it was strange to see someone walking out here this late, with no towns anywhere nearby, but he was tired, so his thoughts didn’t linger on the strangeness for too long. He just wanted to get back to the bunker. He told himself that if he got too tired, he would pull into a motel for the remainder of the night, but even the nearest motel would take him another hour or so to get to, and he really just wanted to get back to his own bed. 

He sang his way through a couple more songs before his thoughts returned to the person walking on the side of the road, and Dean told himself it wasn’t his problem. Some person that decided tonight looked good for a stroll was none of Dean’s concern, they didn’t seem to be injured or in any kind of trouble. True, they hadn’t been illuminated by the headlights for much longer than a second before he’d passed them, but-

Suddenly, something ran into the road! 

Dean slammed his foot onto the brake pedal. He came to a stop quickly, his tires squealing. He twisted around in his seat, his eyes wide. Whatever had run across the road had already disappeared into the treeline. Dean was grateful for the lack of drivers after that sudden stop. He debated getting out of the car to look for… whatever that was. 

He had only seen it for a split second, but it had looked humanoid. Of course that didn’t narrow down what it could have been: demon, werewolf, vampire, changeling, a random drunk? It could’ve been lots of things… or it could’ve been nothing. There had been someone though, just a few miles back, just someone walking along the road. Dean didn’t want to leave knowing there was a chance that that person could die – or worse, as Dean knew first hand there were worse things than dying– just because he didn’t check it out.

Dean drove his car forward a bit and pulled off of the road, on the off chance someone came by while he was gone. He checked his gun and grabbed a flashlight before he got out of the car. Moving cautiously, he held up the flashlight and started walking in the direction the thing had gone. He walked until he couldn’t see the Impala’s shine reflected by the flashlight anymore. He couldn’t see anything but trees and some smaller bushes and shrubs. There weren’t any spots than were colder than the ambient air and he couldn’t smell any sulphur, good signs, but he had definitely seen _something_. Maybe it was just another random person that decided to go for a walk… he could introduce this one with the first walker that he saw.

Dean sighed. He was tired. Why had he even come out here? He was prepared to just call this a wash, get back to the car, and just head to that motel. 

The sound of a twig cracking a few feet ahead changed Dean’s mind in a hurry. He ducked behind a tree and listened.

He didn’t hear anyone talking, but there was definitely movement; heavy erratic footfalls, as if someone was stumbling, announced by the crunching of leaves and snapping of twigs. Dean crept closer.

They were… people, just a man and a woman. Except, Dean thought, there was something wrong. They were moving really weirdly, jerkily, as if their muscles lost interest halfway through the motion. The woman was further from Dean, and he couldn’t make out her features, her long blonde hair fell over her face. The man was closer to Dean, and as he watched the odd pair, Dean noticed that there seemed to be something on the man’s arm. Something white and fuzzy, it looked like it was _growing_ out his arm.

“What the hell?” Dean breathed. What was going on here?

The woman’s head snapped up to look right at him, her hair still partially covering her face. Hell… there was something _growing_ out of that girl’s _face!_ They began moving toward him, still using the same jerky motions, but faster than before.

Dean ran. There was no way he was going to mess with these things. Whatever they were, he’d never seen anything like them. He didn’t know what their weakness was, so the safest thing to do now was to put some distance between them so he could reassess.

They sounded like they were getting closer, judging by the crashes he heard. Were they even trying to avoid the trees and bushes? Dean heard what he assumed was the woman scream out, the sound was pure rage. Dean urged his legs to go faster.

The undergrowth was getting thicker as he ran, but he didn’t slow, crashing through a thicket of brambles. He hissed as some thorns caught his skin, wrestling his way away from the thorns that clung to his clothes. Ah man, he thought, I really liked that shirt.

The shrubs cleared as he continued running, and he chanced a look back. The man was gaining on him, the woman was out of view but surely not far behind. Dean pulled his gun as he ran. He had to at least try to slow them down. Dean turned and shot in one fluid motion, only a lifetime of practice ensuring that he made the shot. The gunshot rang out in the relative quiet of the night, and hit the man square in his right knee. The man went down with a thud. 

Dean winced. It was almost cruel, an injury like that would be crippling, not to mention it would hurt like hell.

The man looked up at Dean, his expression nothing short of furious. He didn’t show any signs of the tremendous pain he must’ve been in. He reached out an arm in front of him and clawed his hand into the ground, and then he extended his other hand. Using his hands and his still movable leg, he began to crawl towards Dean.

Dean allowed himself a moment of shock before he took off running again. The woman had caught up; his few moments spent wounding the man – if you could even call it that– giving her a chance to catch up.

What the hell, what the hell, _what the hell?_ Dean’s inner monologue repeated. At least he’d slowed the man down, his slightly more rational thoughts chimed in.

The woman was gaining though; Dean could hear her heavy footfalls getting closer.

"Son of bitch!" He exclaimed as he was pulled down and his ankle came down hard at an unnatural angle.

The woman clawed at his back, shrieking in his ear. He pointed the gun behind him and shot blindly. She slumped and fell sideways off of Dean’s back. He jumped to his feet –ignoring the jolt of pain from his ankle– remembering how the man had recovered so quickly, and backed a few feet away from her, watching cautiously. He’d gotten her in the head, and she didn’t seem to be moving anymore. The white stuff Dean had seen on her face was gone, likely whipped away by one of the countless branches she’d crashed through in pursuit of Dean.

There was no time to rest. Dean felt his ankle complaining, but it held his weight; Dean surmised that he had twisted it, but not badly. He took off again at a jog, every other step sending jolts of hot pain up his leg. The woman seemed to be out, but the man was still coming, albeit at a slower pace. Dean still wanted to put some distance between him and both of them to be safe.

When his ankle threatened to give out from under him if not given a small reprieve, Dean ducked behind a tree and tried to catch his breath. He strained his ears for sounds of his pursuers. It was quiet; he couldn’t hear anyone approaching. Maybe he’d lost the man, but a question still nagged at him. Were those two the only ones in the forest?

"Are you alright?" A gravelly voice murmured behind him, in the silence as good as a shout to Dean, whose heart faltered.

He whirled around, gun at the ready. The sight that greeted him gave him pause even as his instincts told him to shoot.

The figure behind him was clearly humanoid in form -not that that meant anything to Dean, after all, those _things_ he’d just escaped from had looked like people for the most part, and this creature less so. It was beautiful… and glowing. The figure was lit up like a Christmas tree, and Dean’s first thought - after the big neon sign spelling out SHOOT- was that whatever this thing was, it would give his position away to whatever had attacked him.

Dammit, Dean thought, couldn't he get a break between the new freaky things he came across?! These surprises would be the death of him.

The creature looked back at him with glowing blue eyes, it gaze swept over Dean and settled on the pistol. It sighed, and Dean could’ve sworn it looked annoyed.

"Don't bother," it said in its gravelly voice, eyeing the gun. "You would only succeed in drawing them here."

Dean was taken aback. He weighed his options. If what the creature was saying was true, he should conserve his ammo for the monsters that could actually be taken down by it. It wouldn't be worth drawing them here either, his ankle was throbbing with a distinctly insistent pain now despite the rest, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to run on it for much longer. He lowered his gun slightly, still holding it tight and keeping a close eye on the mysterious glowing creature. He wasn't going to take any chances.

The creature still seemed annoyed –perhaps sensing Dean’s distrust– but didn't comment. They sized each other up.

"You're injured." The creature deadpanned, looking directly at his twisted ankle.

Dean bristled. Years of experience told him not to let on about any weakness that could be exploited by anything you come across. 

"I'm fine." Dean growled. It wasn't much of a defence, granted, but Dean was feeling more inclined to the offensive given the circumstances. 

The creature seemed to be growing more exasperated by the second.

"I've never come across such a paranoid and highly strung human before." It huffed, crossing its arms in a very human gesture.

Dean smiled wryly.

"Well I've never met any _thing_ like you, so we'll call it even." 

Dean held out his free hand grandly.

"Dean Winchester." He introduced himself, sarcasm dripping from each syllable.

To his complete surprise -which was probably the only reason his gun remained unfired- the creature grabbed Dean’s offered hand in its own. Sarcasm apparently lost on it, the creature seemed to relax a bit. Dean felt his hand gripped firmly in the creatures and pumped up and down twice. 

"My name is Castiel," it said. "I am an angel of the Lord."

The creature then let go of his hand and it fell limply to his side. Dean felt his jaw go slack for a moment before his thoughts caught up with him.

"I'm sorry," Dean said, trying to regain his composure, "You're a what?"

The sound of snapped twigs and the rustling of bushes drew their attention back to the problem at hand.

The creature, Castiel, glanced in the direction of the noise, then back at Dean.

“It’s not safe out here.” he said, “follow me.”

Dean glared at him warily. Castiel heaved another frustrated sigh.

“I know of a safe place not far from here,” he gritted out, “ _please_ , just follow me, I have no reason to harm you.”

Dean was about to retort that this creature, this _angel_ apparently, had no reason to _help_ him either, but the sounds were getting closer. Dean gritted his teeth.

“Fine,” he said, “lead the way.”

Castiel nodded, his expression stony. He turned away from Dean and began walking briskly, though Dean noticed his glowing feet made no sound walking over the dead leaves and branches. He noted that the angel’s feet were bare and he wondered how they were so clean and free from injury. Dean followed, deciding that he preferred the one-on-one odds of just him and Castiel versus just him and however many of those things were out here. 

He and Castiel crept through the trees, listening for their pursuers, and Castiel led him further into the forest. After walking for a few minutes, Dean couldn’t hear anyone’s footsteps but his own occasionally crunching a leaf, and he started to relax minutely. As Dean fought his way through a particularly dense thicket of trees –which Castiel had seemingly passed through with no trouble at all much to Dean’s annoyance– Dean noticed a faint glowing.

There was a cluster of mushrooms growing a little ways from where Dean was standing. They seemed to be… glowing. Dean switched off his flashlight, approaching them cautiously. They were glowing alright, emitting a small halo of light around them. Dean took another step toward them.

Only to be grabbed from behind and dragged back.

Dean struggled against the strong grip, but he was let go almost immediately. Castiel was giving him a hard stare when he whipped around to face him.

“What the hell, man?” Dean said harshly.

“Don’t go near those.” Castiel replied, glancing at the mushrooms.

“Why not?” Dean asked, making a show of straightening his –admittedly ripped and almost certainly already ruined– clothes, still not happy at being manhandled. Truth be told, he was also slightly upset at himself for letting his guard down.

“I will explain when we are somewhere safer,” Castiel sounded like he was losing patience. “Just don’t approach them.”

He tone carried a warning, which Dean bristled at, but he followed Castiel when he turned to lead the way once more.

They continued walking in silence. Dean was starting to get agitated when Castiel stopped without any warning. Dean nearly kept walking right into his glowing back.

“Here.” Castiel said simply, gesturing toward a small cave they had come upon.

Dean looked at it doubtfully. Castiel was starting to look as if he wished any other human on the planet was there instead of Dean.

“It’s safe,” he said gruffly, “I have spent a few nights here, and have remained undetected.”

Without waiting for a reply, Castiel turned from him and entered the cave. After a quick glance around, and the thought that Castiel turned his back on potential threats far too easily, Dean followed.

The cave wasn’t massive, but there was plenty of space for the two of them. Castiel watched him carefully as he walked, slowly and purposely as to not give away how much his ankle was starting to hurt him. 

As Dean sank onto a rock that was a good height and shape for a chair, he learned that Castiel was capable of a dubious expression –add that to his repertoire of annoyance and what seemed to be his go-to blankness. The flat look he was giving Dean said “Bullshit” as loudly as if he had said it himself, Dean sent back a look he was sure said “Bitch” just as clearly. Castiel sat upon his own rock and looked at him silently. Dean saw a lot of staring in his future.

“So…” Dean said, feeling just a little awkward. “What do you know about them?”

“Not very much, I’m afraid.” Castiel said, frowning. “I have merely been observing, but whatever is happening has to do with those fungi you saw.”

“Yeah, you didn’t seem to want me to get near that stuff.” Dean observed, letting a touch of his grumpiness over the incident colour his tone.

“Any human that has gotten near to that “stuff” has changed,” Castiel muttered. “Becoming something… something else. The fungus is unlike anything I have ever seen, it disappears during the day, but it is back each night when I check”

Dean got to his feet again and began to pace. His ankle complained, but sitting still was making him antsy, and pacing would help him to think and process the situation. It was always something, wasn’t it? He couldn’t have _one_ normal night? No, he’d even gotten a double-header tonight: those things out there, and this apparent angel in here.

Said angel interrupted his musings.

“You shouldn’t aggravate your injury.” Castiel said, watching his movements.

“I’m fine.” Dean growled. Castiel constantly bringing up his injury was getting on his nerves.

“You’re going to make it worse.” Castiel warned, standing up.

Dean stopped pacing and turned to face Castiel warily. Dean felt the change in the atmosphere, the hairs on the back of his neck tingled when he saw Castiel standing. Dean became painfully aware of the fact that Castiel was closer to the entrance of the cave, the only exit, than Dean was. He was also intimately aware of the strength of the angel’s grip now after the earlier mushroom incident. 

“I told you,” Dean said, a little less certain but not letting on, “I’m fine.”

“That is a lie.” Castiel deadpanned. He took a step closer.

Dean took a reflexive step back.

“What are you doing?” Dean asked.

Castiel held up both of his hands up in a placating gesture.

“I can heal your ankle,” he said. “You just need to hold still.”

Dean scoffed.

“You’re not coming near me.” Dean said, taking another step back and feeling the close proximity to the cave wall behind him.

“Dean,” Castiel used his name in a calm voice, his hands still raised. “Just hold still, I just need to touch your ankle and it will feel better. You just have to trust me.”

Trust him? Dean nearly laughed in his face. Sure, he’d brought him out of the way of those things, but he’d still done very little to earn his trust. Like hell Dean was going to let him anywhere near his most vulnerable part at the moment.

Castiel took another step toward him. Dean was beginning to feel like a trapped animal, and an injured one at that. Dean pulled his gun and pointed it at Castiel’s head, his hands wanted to shake but Dean held them still through sheer force of will.

“Don’t you take one more step.” Dean ground out through gritted teeth.

Castiel rolled his eyes and grabbed the gun from Dean’s hands. The movement so quick that Dean had no time to react before it was too late. Castiel eyed the weapon disdainfully and tossed it across to the other side of the cave, out of Dean’s reach.

Panic finally catching up to Dean at the loss of his weapon, he darted around Castiel as the angel looked at where the gun landed, he’d only gotten a few feet before his ankle gave a particularly painful twinge and a muscle in his leg spasmed, sending him sprawling onto the floor.

“Are you alright?” Castiel asked, approaching him.

Dean forced himself to move, backing away painfully across the floor. Castiel froze.

“Don’t come near me.” Dean said angrily, pointing a finger accusingly at Castiel. He hand was shaking, but Dean didn’t care. His muscles had relaxed, but his ankle was throbbing. Whatever was wrong before, it was way worse now. His shoe was feeling far too tight for his foot, and Dean sighed in frustration, swelling was definitely not good. Probably something had torn, or was more torn that it was before, he mused in spite of the pain.

Castiel looked at him with wide eyes, seemingly torn. Dean almost felt bad, he really seemed to just want to help him, but Dean hadn’t gotten to be alive as long as he had by trusting every strange creature that offered help. Castiel eventually just sat down on the rock that Dean had been occupying, his hands folded on his lap, and watched Dean uneasily.

Dean watched Castiel watch him for a few moments, making sure he would stay put, before scooting backwards toward the closest patch of wall he could reach, not trusting his ankle enough to get up. Castiel looked as if he wanted to get up and help, but thought better of it. Dean reached the wall and leaned back heavily onto it with a sigh. He met Castiel’s wary stare with his own one of tired suspicion. The silence between the two stretched.

Castiel eventually broke it.

“I apologise,” he said, looking uncomfortable. “I should have realised that your distrust of me would be exacerbated by my close proximity.”

Dean gazed at him evenly for a while, then shrugged.

“Just stay over there,” Dean replied, “and we won’t have any problems.”

Castiel frowned, but nodded his compliance.

Dean leaned his head back against the cool stone and closed his eyes. The pain in his ankle was near constant now, but it had gone back down to tolerable levels. He knew he should take off his shoe, if only to relieve the pressure on his swelling, but he refused. It would hurt like hell to take it off now, and his foot was sure to look like a real mess by now. He didn’t want to show Castiel just how it was now. The angel hadn’t shown signs of wanting to do him any harm; in fact he seemed to feel really bad about what had just happened. Dean knew he was being stubborn, but his instincts told him he was being the exact amount of suspicious that was necessary.

He was so tired.

He didn’t want to think. He didn’t want to process. He didn’t want to plan.

He would have to call Sammy. He’d known for a while that he would need to call his brother, but his immediate thought was that he didn’t want his brother to worry. And Sam _would_ worry, even if Dean didn’t tell him everything, but it had to be done. No one could research like his brother, and Dean was pretty shorthanded at the moment. Also, it was just a few hours until morning; his brother had probably gotten more than enough sleep to function by now.

Decided, Dean pulled out his phone and started to dial Sam. Castiel eyed the phone warily.

“What is that?” He asked.

Dean looked at him incredulously.

“It’s… my phone?” Dean answered, “I use it to… to _call_ people.”

Castiel frowned.

“That small brick can summon people here?” He asked, squinted at Dean’s phone. “Do you think it wise to summon anyone here, given the danger of the current situation?”

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. He reminded himself that he still didn’t know exactly what this thing was capable of.

“No,” Dean gritted out, eyes still closed. “I use it, to _communicate_ with other humans.”

There was a beat of silence in the cave. 

“Oh,” Castiel said, looking away.

Dean looked at Castiel for a moment – add embarrassment to the limited-but-growing list of Castiel the angel of the Lord’s facial expressions– and continued to dial.

While he explained the situation as best he could to Sam, Dean watched his impromptu companion. Dean had never seen anything like him. An angel of the lord he had called himself… Dean’s mother used to tell him that angels were watching over him, but he hadn’t had much reason to believe that for years now.

Castiel watched him as well, his expression giving nothing away, Dean wondered idly whether this species was capable of proper smiles, or would the muscles simply tear from the effort. He smirked at the thought, and Castiel squinted at him in response. Thus far he’d proven capable of at least a few expressions… baby steps.

Dean eventually hung up on his brother. He slumped back against the cool stone once more with a sigh.

“Your brother cares about you very much.” Castiel said.

Dean bristled, he never liked when the things he came across brought up his brother.

“Yeah.” He replied evenly. “He does.”

“You lied to him.” Castiel said bluntly. “You told him you were uninjured, but your ankle is clearly causing you pain… more pain than before I interfered.”

Castiel at least had the good grace to look remorseful about that.

“He didn’t need to worry about it.” Dean said, frowning. 

Castiel frowned back at him.

“Your brother didn’t believe you, there was no need to lie,” Castiel continued, “you also implied that you were alone.”

“It’s better if he thinks I’m alone,” Dean replied. It wasn’t really a lie, he thought, Dean just didn’t mention it. How would he even explain Castiel to Sammy over the phone anyway? It had been hard enough describing those things.

“He will worry, imagining you alone and injured,” Castiel retorted. “Something I thought you were avoiding with your first lie.”

“He’d worry more imagining me with you and injured,” Dean shot back.

Castiel gave his confused frown.

“Why?” He asked. “You would be worse off out there.”

“Because you’re harmless?” Dean asked sarcastically.

“Oh no,” Castiel contradicted bluntly. “I am far more dangerous than those corrupted humans out there. I mean you no harm, but if I did you would be no more than atoms floating around in this cave.”

Dean’s eyes widened. It hadn’t sounded like a threat; Castiel had said it in his flat gravelly voice as if he were observing the weather, confident with an air of boredom. Another silence stretched between the two, wherein Dean sized Castiel up and Castiel just watched him with his hands still folded on his lap. Dean wondered if he was just trying to seem like he wasn’t a threat to him, but after a statement like that the effort would be sorely wasted. After some time, Castiel spoke.

“I should build a fire.” He said, standing up, but not moving any closer to Dean, “The cold isn’t good for humans… especially injured humans.”

Dean glared at him for the “injured human” comment, even if it was true. He had to admit though, at least to himself, a fire sounded like a great idea. He would appreciate the added light as well, since the only source of light in the cave came from his flashlight.

“That’s not a bad idea,” Dean said, “I’ll get some firewood.”

Before he could do more than push himself away from the stone wall so that he had more space to stand, Castiel had crossed the cave and placed his hands on Dean’s shoulders. Dean jumped slightly at the sudden approach and contact. Castiel made no effort to push him back, but the pressure on Dean’s shoulders was firm and unrelenting.

“You aren’t getting up from that spot,” Castiel said firmly. “I suspect your ankle wouldn’t allow it, despite your efforts to ignore it.”

Dean clenched his teeth, his anger at being treated like a child only rivalled by the knowledge that Castiel was probably right. Before he could bite out a response, Castiel continued.

“It is at least partly my fault that you find yourself in this state,” Castiel said, “at least let me help in some small way, since you won’t just let me heal it.”

Dean glared at him, but his anger was tempered by Castiel seemingly genuine want to help. He smirked at little to himself at Castiel’s “partly my fault” comment, it was very human in minimising his involvement. Dean nodded once at Castiel and then glared at the floor.

Castiel relaxed a little and removed his hands from Dean’s shoulders. He straightened up and turned away. Dean lifted his gaze to watch the angel. Castiel didn’t immediately walk toward the exit, which struck Dean as odd; he set off in nearly the opposite direction. Dean watched him stop, his gaze on the floor of the cave, looking at something Dean couldn’t see in the dark. Castiel aim his foot at whatever it was, and kicked it toward Dean.

A metallic skittering met Dean’s ears and his gun slid across the floor to stop at his side. Dean picked it up and looked at Castiel curiously. The angel gave a small shrug.

“I’m not going to leave you here with no protection.” Castiel said simply.

Dean felt a small smile tug at his lips.

“Thanks.” Dean said, putting the gun back down at his side, within reach if he needed it.

Castiel gave him a nod, then left the cave. Dean listened for his footsteps, but he heard nothing, Castiel’s feet as quiet as ever.

Dean sat and waited, the silence a heavy weight in the air. He looked down at his ankle.

“This is all your fault.” He said sullenly, if only to break the silence.

He thought maybe he should try removing his shoe, now that he didn’t have an audience. He leaned forward and brought the throbbing joint toward him. He undid his laces and tried loosening it as much as he could, breathing deeply through his clenched teeth. When the laces were as loose as they were going to get, he grabbed the shoe and steeled his nerves. Just holding the shoe in his hands was ramping up the pain in his ankle.

Working slowing and carefully, Dean worked the shoe off of his foot. He tried to limit any sounds to quiet gasps and hisses in case there were less than friendly ears nearby, but the occasional grunt and groan escaped him. Finally the shoe was off, and he rolled off his sock slowly. His foot was very swollen, and even in the dim light Dean could see it had turned an ugly purple colour. The work done, Dean slumped back against the cave wall and closed his eyes, content to just listen to his breathing for a bit.

Dean’s phone rang, breaking the silence. He dug it out of his pocket.

“Sammy,” he said, trying to keep any residual pain out of his voice, “please tell me you found something.”

“I think so,” Sam replied, sounding more awake now than when they’d last spoken, “but whatever this is, it’s something new. No one else has heard of anything like it. Garth thought I was pulling his leg.”

“But you did find something?” Dean asked. If there was any lore out there on the subject, his little brother would find it.

“I think so,” Sam repeated, “but I don’t know if it will be any help.”

“Anything you have is better than nothing,” Dean said. They needed any help they could get.

“Alright…” Sam didn’t sound convinced that anything he had found out would help them. “So get this, there’s this fungus that infects ants and other insects, sometimes spiders too. They get infected by the spores from the fungus; it grows inside their bodies and kind of infects their brains.”

“Ants have brains?” Dean asked. Sam ignored him.

“I found pictures of insects that had been infected, the fungus grows out of their heads, their bodies, it’s pretty messed up, Dean.”

“So… what? This fungus just grows on them?” Dean asked.

“It changes their behaviour too,” Sam continued, “usually just makes the insects go somewhere and stay there so that the fungus can grow and spread more spores.”

“That’s insects though,” Dean said. “You find anything on people getting infected.

“Well…” Sam sounded hesitant.

“Come on, Sammy!” Dean was getting impatient. “Any information you found could help.”

“I only found one… case, where humans were affected…” Sam sighed. “A video game.”

A beat of silence.

“… I stand corrected.”

“Dean, I-”

“A video game? Really, dude?”

“It’s all I could find!”

“Fine then! What happened in the game?”

“Well, the humans got infected and… turned into zombies.”

“… Zombies.” Dean repeated flatly. 

“I know, Dean, I know.” Sam said, “But it’s all I found pertaining to humans.”

“So,” Dean said, “all we have to go on are some mouldy bugs and a freaking video game about zombies.”

“I mean there are literally thousands of species of this fungus that infects insects!” Sam said defensively. “Maybe one just, I don’t know, evolved to affect humans.”

“Alright,” Dean said rubbing at his face. He was too tired to debate theories.

“I want you to come and meet me here,” Dean told Sam. “You should be able to get your ass here by morning if you leave now, and we can figure out what’s going on here.”

“Okay.” Sam said, Dean could almost see him nodding, planning what he should take along with him, “I’ll see you in the morning, and hey, Dean?”

“Yeah, Sammy?” Dean asked.

“Remember to aim for the head.” Sam teased, Dean could hear him smiling. “Double-tap too, classic zombie rules.”

Dean laughed despite the situation; he blamed it on the sleep deprivation.

“Yeah, whatever,” Dean chuckled. “Bitch.”

“Jerk,” Sam dutifully, then more seriously. “Be careful, Dean.”

Castiel chose this moment to walk back into the cave. His arms were full of branches. Dean smirked at him.

“Always careful, Sammy.” Dean told his brother, and hung up his phone.

Castiel squinted at him, dropping the branches just inside the cave entrance.

“You’re still lying to your brother.” He sighed.

“Yeah,” Dean admitted, still smiling. “It’s a bad habit.”

Sam’s bad joke had broken some tension in him that he hadn’t even been aware of. Dean found himself in a better mood, especially now at the prospect of a warm fire.

Castiel tilted his head at him, clearly confused at Dean’s change in demeanour. He glanced at Dean’s foot – now uncovered– and his eyes widened, but he made no comment.

“Did your brother have good news?” He asked.

“Not really.” Dean admitted. He quickly relayed what Sam had told him.

“Interesting,” Castiel mused. “A fungus that can control another’s brain function.”

“Yeah, it’s fascinating,” Dean said impatiently, “Now about that fire.”

“Of course.” Castiel nodded, turning back to the branches. He grabbed a couple of branches and dumped them in the centre of the cave.

“Hey, whoa!” Dean stopped him. 

Castiel straightened and looked back at Dean.

“What?” He asked.

“Haven’t you ever made a fire before?” Dean asked, annoyed. That was the sloppiest fire building he’d ever seen, including Sammy’s first attempt at age nine.

Castiel gave him a look.

“No?” Castiel said, as if it were obvious. “When would I ever have need to?”

“Good point,” Dean admitted. “But I’m not letting you continue with that sloppy mess.”

Castiel looked back at the haphazard pile of branches. Obviously he didn’t see anything wrong.

“You are welcome to supervise.” Castiel conceded. “But you aren’t moving from that spot.”

Dean wanted to bristle at being treated like a child, but he knew Castiel was right. He wasn’t moving from his place without an unnecessary amount of pain. He nodded.

“Straighten up that pile for a start.” Dean said, “You want kind of a criss-cross pattern, square-shaped, with an empty space in the middle for kindling – you can use some of those pinecones on the branches. You might need to grab some of the smaller branches from the other pile; you want them all to be roughly the same size.”

Castiel listened to Dean’s instructions and considered his pile of branches. He picked up a thick one that was too long and promptly broke it in half, so that he had two more suitably sized branches.

Dean blinked, that worked. He shouldn’t be surprised at the angel’s strength, having experienced it first-hand, but it was still shocking to see it. Castiel just seemed so meek and innocent most of the time.

Castiel built a good-looking base for a fire, following Dean’s occasional suggestion, but he didn’t need to advise Castiel much further than his initial set of instructions.

“Okay,” Dean said, smiling at Castiel’s work. “Now we just need something to make a spark.”

He looked around the cave.

“There’s a flint in my car,” He said, scanning the small rocks littering the cave floor, “but maybe one of these-”

The crackling of flames cut him off. He looked back at Castiel, who was just standing up from a crouch in front of the fire. Orange-yellow flames were licking the branches that Castiel had laid carefully under Dean’s instructions.

“How,” Dean spluttered, “how did you do that?”

Castiel smirked at him. Dean gaped. It was the closest he’d gotten to a smile, and it was stunning.

“You may know how to build the base for a fire,” he said, his blue eyes glittering from the reflected flames, “but I know how to set something alight.”

Castiel turned back to the flames, admiring his handiwork. Dean took this moment to examine the angel properly in the firelight. True, he glowed, but somehow the light of the crackling fire brought distinctness out of his form. Dean’s brain short-circuited for a split-second when he realised that Castiel had wings.

Said angel turned once more to face him, and Dean quickly schooled his features as Castiel approached him slowly.

“Is it warm enough for you?” He asked, gesturing to the fire.

Dean nodded. The warmth coming from the fire was pleasant and he was sure he would be feeling toasty in no time.

“Thank you,” Dean said.

Castiel nodded absently. He motioned to an empty patch of floor next to Dean.

“May I?” He asked.

Dean shrugged.

“Sure,” he replied, “pull up some floor.”

Castiel settled onto the floor a few feet from Dean, careful of his injured foot. They watched the fire pop and crackle. Dean could feel Castiel gaze shift to his ankle every now and then.

“Is there any way I could convince you to let me heal you?” Castiel asked quietly.

Dean stiffened. Castiel sighed.

“I understand you don’t trust me,” Castiel continued calmly, “but is there anything I can do to make you believe that I don’t want to hurt you?”

“Those humans out there,” Dean asked, changing the focus from him. Truth be told, Dean was beginning to trust the angel, but he didn’t want to think about it. “If you can heal, why don’t you heal them?”

Castiel sighed in frustration. His expression was bitter.

“I could heal them,” he said, glaring at the fire. His blue eyes had darkened, looking like a stormy sea. “But I don’t have access to the full power of heaven at this point in time.”

“You’re cut off?” Dean asked in disbelief. “You? An angel?”

“Yes.” Castiel admitted morosely.

“Why?” Dean asked. “Did they kick you out?”

“More or less.” Castiel said, frowning.

“Why?” Dean asked.

“I…” Castiel cast about for the words. “Made mistakes.”

“Mistakes?” Dean repeated incredulously.

Castiel met his gaze impatiently.

“Big mistakes.” He said brusquely.

Dean considered this, watching the fire. They would need to add more fuel to it in a bit, but some of the branches were still burning valiantly.

“So,” Dean said carefully, “what’s a… fallen angel… doing out here?”

Castiel frowned at the fire, his eyes burning. Dean wasn’t completely sure if it was just from reflecting the flames.

“I may not be allowed back into heaven, but I still have some power,” he said with conviction. “I can still help others. I believe I can help those humans out there.”

Dean stared at Castiel. He’d been ousted from heaven and he still just wanted to help people? How long had he been away from heaven? Had he just ended up here, or did he find this place? He had so many questions, but now wasn’t the time.

“I’m sure you will, Cas.” Dean told him.

Castiel tilted his head at the nickname, but didn’t comment.

“Thank you, Dean.” He said.

“You still have some mojo though?” Dean asked.

“Yes,” Castiel answered, “more than enough to heal your ankle.”

Castiel glanced pointedly at the joint. Dean didn’t know whether to take offence or laugh.

“Fine,” He threw his hands up in surrender. “Let’s see what you can do.”

Castiel met his gaze, his eyes wide. 

“Really?” He asked, surprised.

“Yeah,” Dean said nervously. “You should probably take this opportunity before I change my mind.”

Castiel nodded and turned to face him fully. He reached for Dean’s ankle.  
“Hold still,” Castiel told him, “this shouldn’t hurt.”

Dean nodded. He clenched his hands into fists and forced himself to hold his leg still.

Castiel’s hands cradled his foot gently. Dean didn’t even feel the light touch. He reminded himself to breathe.

Castiel closed his eyes, and his hands began to glow brighter. Dean watched in fascination as the glow engulfed his ankle. It didn’t hurt, but he felt a subtle tingling and his ankle was getting warm. It was a pleasant feeling. The warmth didn’t get uncomfortably hot, it was comforting.

The glowing faded, and Castiel opened his eyes and let go of his foot. The warm feeling was still there. They met each other’s gaze and simultaneously looked down at Dean’s foot.

The swelling had gone down and the ugly purple colour replaced with a healthy pink. Dean tested his range of motion, bracing for any pain, but none came.

“How does it feel?” Castiel asked.

“Good.” Dean answered, smiling. “Warm.”

Castiel chuckled, and Dean’s heart stuttered. The sound was gruff, but it was the best thing that Dean had ever heard. He wanted to hear it again. What would a proper laugh sound like?

“It will feel like for a while,” Castiel explained, “You’ll probably get a bit tired as well, this process can take a lot out the one being healed.”

Dean barked out a laugh.

“I’ve been tired as a dog for hours, Cas.” He said. “I think I can handle it.”

Castiel frowned at him in concern. Dean found his expression funny for some reason.

“You should smile more.” Dean giggled. “You’re way more handsome when you smile.”

Castiel seemed to get a bit flustered at that, but it was hard to tell for sure with his glowing features. He was definitely still concerned.

“You’re getting delirious, Dean.” He said firmly. “You should get some rest, I’ll keep watch.”

Dean nodded. Sleep sounded like an amazing idea. The warm feeling was spreading from his foot to encompass his entire body. He was feeling fuzzy around the edges.

“Thass a good idea.” Dean said, slurring a little. “My brother’s coming in the mornin’.”

“I’ll wake you up in a few hours, Dean.” Castiel assured him.

Dean smiled.

“Thanks, Cas.” He said. He closed his eyes and the world went black.

“-ean? Dean?”

Dean frowned, he was having a nice dream, but someone was trying to wake him up. Why? It was way too early to get up. He’d just gone to bed, so what was the big idea? He kept his eyes closed and stubbornly buried his face into his pillow.

“Dean, you have to get up.” Dean’s pillow rumbled beneath him.

That wasn’t right. Why was his pillow vibrating beneath him? Now that he thought about it, his pillow was shaped kind of strangely. It didn’t smell like his pillow at the bunker, nor did it have the musty smell of a pillow at a motel. It smelled nice… sort of familiar… 

Dean jerked awake and opened his eyes.

His pillow was glowing. He lifted his head, and met Castiel’s eyes. He’d been sleeping slumped onto Castiel’s chest.

“Oh good.” The angel smiled at him. “You’re awake.”

“Uhh,” Dean replied eloquently, straightening up and leaning his back against the cave wall.

“My apologies,” Castiel continued, “You fell onto me when you fell asleep.”

Dean leaned forward and put his face into his hands. He could feel his face burning.

“I didn’t want to wake you up, considering how you were already so sleep deprived, it could have been dangerous.” Castiel kept talking, oblivious to Dean’s embarrassment. “Luckily there were no intruders, so I had no need to jostle you.”

Dean wished with all his might that Castiel would stop talking or that a hole would open up and swallow him whole. Either option was okay with him, as long as it happened soon.

“You mentioned your brother was coming this morning.” Castiel kept talking and there didn’t seem to be holes opening up.

That was right; Sam was on his way here. Dean stood up and stretched. He felt great, considering last night’s activities and sleeping in a cave in an awkward position – in more than one way. He could see the grey light of dawn coming from outside.

“Sam will probably be here soon,” Dean said. “Do you know what they do during the day?”

Dean didn’t need to explain who he meant by ‘they’. Castiel shook his head.

“They aren’t a threat during the day,” he said, “they seek out refuge and stay in one place until nightfall.”

Dean nodded. He offered Castiel a hand up even though he probably didn’t need it. Castiel accepted his offer; his hand was cool in Dean’s.

“Come on,” Dean said, walking toward the cave entrance. “If I’m right we’ll be able to see the sunrise from where I left my car. If I have to be awake this early, I’m making the best of it.”

“You’re right,” Castiel said, following him, “I’ve seen it from the road a few mornings.”

Dean smiled. He was feeling pretty good for some reason. He put it down to residual fuzzy feeling from being healed last night. That was a hell of a drug.

They reached the road and Dean looked around. His baby was still there, which was good. The sun was just peeking out from the horizon, perfectly framed by trees. They stood and watched the sky turn from steely grey to a light pink and purple, then transition to a darker pink and deep red as the sun crept further into the sky.

Dean watched the natural lightshow for a while, then glanced at Castiel. The angel was staring transfixed at the spectacle with a proper smile plastered on his face. Dean smiled and looked back at the sunrise, even though the beauty now paled compared to the creature standing next to him.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” He said.

“Yes,” Castiel answered. “This has been one of my little pleasures since leaving heaven.”  
Dean raised an eyebrow.

“Nothing like this in heaven, huh?” Dean asked.

“No,” Castiel said, “There are many things, beautiful things, but this… every morning it is different, different clouds, the colours always scattering in a different way.”

Dean nodded, thinking Castiel’s words over. He was right, but Dean had always taken the random quality of sunrises –and sunsets– for granted.

Once the light show had concluded, Dean noticed Sam’s car in the distance.

“There’s my brother.” Dean pointed.

Castiel nodded, his smile had slipped back into his blank expression. Dean missed it a bit, but didn’t say anything. He had a vague recollection of telling the angel to smile more last night before he passed out and cringed internally.

Sam’s car drove up to them. Dean waved lamely, remembering that he hadn’t mentioned the glowing angel next to him to his brother. Said brother was staring at said angel in shock. Sam drove past them and pulled off of the road behind the Impala. Dean walked up to meet Sam, Castiel following in his wake.

Sam got out his car. Dean smiled at him awkwardly and hoped that he was shielding Cas somewhat with his body.

“Hey, Sammy!” Dean welcomed his brother. “How was the drive?”

Sam glared at him.

“Dean.” he acknowledged him. “What is that?”

Dean winced and glanced back at Cas. He didn’t seem to be bothered about his brother’s hostility. Maybe he’d set the bar for introductions a little low after their meeting last night?

“Oh, uh, this,” Dean said, “this is Castiel.”

Sam gave him a hard stare.

“He’s, uh, an angel of the Lord.” Dean added.

Sam’s eyes widened. Dean counted this as an improvement from the glare.

“He’s cool, Sam,” Dean continued. “If he’d wanted me dead he would have had lots of opportunities last night.”

He glanced at Cas for backup and winced when he saw the angel nod in agreement.

Sam saw this as well and frowned.

“He helped me,” Dean defended, “I don’t know what state I’d be in right now if he hadn’t found me.”

He held up a finger at Cas to keep him quiet.

“Don’t tell me, Cas.” He warned.

Sam glanced between them, a little confused. He seemed to make up his mind and approached Castiel cautiously. The angel sized him up as he approached, but his expression didn’t change.

Sam held his hand out to Castiel.

“Sam Winchester.” He introduced himself.

Cas smiled a little. He grabbed Sam’s hand and shook it as he had his brother’s a few hours ago.

“Castiel.” He said, even though Dean had already introduced him. He let go of Sam’s hand.

“Thanks for taking care of my brother.” Sam said.

Castiel nodded. Dean was thankful he didn’t say anything.

Sam turned back to his brother. He looked Dean up and down and sighed.

“Okay, first thing, you need sleep.” Sam said.

“I’m fine.” Dean groaned. “You two worry too much.”

“You are not fine,” Sam sighed. “You look dead on your feet; did you even sleep last night?”

“Yes, I did!” Dean crowed triumphantly. “Tell him, Cas, you were there.”

“It’s true,” Castiel confirmed, “although he could use some more rest.”

Dean glared at him.

“Traitor.” He growled.

Sam laughed.

“It seems your brother can take things from here.” Castiel told Dean, “You will be safe with him.”

Dean forgot his indignation. Sam stopped laughing, looking at them curiously again. 

Cas’s tone had such a finality to it. Dean was shocked. He hadn’t considered that they would go their separate ways. Why would they? Cas was alone, he literally had no one in the world, Dean couldn’t just leave him.

"You know,” Dean said, “we could probably use your-”

Dean cast about for a word. Expertise? Skills? Knowledge? Company? 

“Help.” Dean settled on. “You could… come with us… you know, if you want?”

Dean shrugged awkwardly, as if it wasn’t really a big deal.

Sam gaped at him, disbelief on his face.

“He’d stick out a bit, don’t you think?” Sam said, gesturing to Cas’s… everything.

He could blend in, Dean thought defensively, sure he looked kind of weird but he’d been acting normal...ish. He could at the very least act normal.

"You're referring to my incandescent visage." Cas said bluntly, gesturing at himself.

Dammit, Cas, Dean thought.

“… Yeah” Sam said stiffly, giving Dean a ‘are you freaking serious?’ look.

Dean didn’t know what to say, so he stayed silent.

“I may have a solution.” Cas said, saving Dean from Sam’s expression.

“A solution?” Dean repeated, he looked at Sam, “A solution. You hear that Sammy? He’s got a solution.”

How many times had he said solution? Maybe too many times based on the looks the other two were giving him.

"Stay here." Castiel said, heading back into the trees, "Turn around as well to be safe, I believe that witnessing the transformation may blind you."

Dean frowned at Cas, confused. Sam wore a similar expression of confusion. They traded a look, then Dean shrugged and complied. After a moment’s hesitation, Sam followed suit.

There was an awkward silence.

“You didn’t mention your friend last night.” Sam stated, annoyed.

“It wasn’t important,” Dean said defensively, “it would have just worried you.”

“Seems pretty important to you,” Sam shot back, “inviting him to come with us.”

“Well it wasn’t important then,” Dean retorted, “he doesn’t have anyone else to go to, Sam… we talked a bit last night… he’s not that weird once you get to know him.”

Sam didn’t reply, but his disbelief was palpable.

“Okay, he’s still weird once you get to know him,” Dean relented, “but he’s a good guy, and he’s really been trying to help these people, even though he’s alone and doesn’t know what he’s doing. The least we can do is work together.”

“Fine,” Sam agreed, “we’ll let your boyfriend help.”

Dean felt some heat rush to his cheeks and hoped his brother didn’t notice.

“Bitch.” He retorted.

“Jerk.” Sam answered good-naturedly.

A rustle from the trees behind them shut them up and they turned back toward the treeline.

Out walked... a normal man. A handsome man with eyes an almost inhuman piercing blue, a shade that was familiar to Dean after a night spent looking into them.

“Castiel?” Dean choked out. 

Sam’s eyes were wide and his mouth hung open. Dean felt a tingle of amusement before realising his jaw was equally slack.

"Hello, Dean." said the man. It was Castiel’s voice.

Dean forced himself to close his mouth. A thought occurred to him.

"You mean to tell me," he began indignantly, "that you could’ve done that at any point?!"

Castiel really seemed to think about it.

"Yes," he said, finally, "I suppose, although I didn’t any reason to."

"No reason to-," Dean spluttered, "how about the freaking glow that could’ve drawn those things’ attention!" 

He gestured vaguely up and down Cas's body.

Cas's eyebrows creased in confusion. Obviously, despite the different look, this was still the same Cas.

“But I didn’t attract their attention.” Cas said.

Dean sighed. There wasn’t a point arguing, he would just get tired again.

“Okay, first things first, I want to check out those mushrooms you mentioned.” Sam said.

“You can’t.” The normal-looking guy with Cas’s voice said. “They disappear during the day.”

“Yeah, you mentioned that last night.” said Dean. 

He turned to Sam.

“You ever heard of something like that?” He asked his brother.

“Well, thanks to my in-depth study into mushrooms last night.” Sam grinned. “There are actually species of mushrooms that kind of hide during the day and come out again at night.”

“Great!” Dean cheered sarcastically. “Nature is against us.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Sam muttered. Dean had to agree with him there.

“We will have to come back come sundown if you want to examine the fungus.” Cas said. “You should let me take samples, it isn’t safe for humans.”

“Okay,” Dean said. “So we’ll come back and Cas can get us some magic mushrooms. What should we do in the meantime?”

“Well,” said Sam. “I did a bit more research, and there have been a few recent missing persons cases opened in the nearest town. Might be worth following up, maybe see if there’s any local lore about those mushrooms.”

Dean smirked, his brother always had a plan.

“You’re not fooling me, Sammy.” Dean joked shrewdly. “You just want to check into a motel and catch up on lost sleep.”

Sam rolled his eyes.

“It may be a good idea for both of you to get some sleep before tonight.” Cas agreed, missing the ribbing entirely.

Sam smirked at Dean as he shook his head.

“Alright, wise guy.” Dean said to his brother. “You take your car and we’ll meet in the nearest town.”

Sam shot him a mock salute and headed off to his car.

“Come on, Cas.” Dean said. “You’re coming with me.”

Dean headed to his car and Cas followed. They clambered into the Impala as Sam was pulling off.

Cas glanced around the interior of the car as Dean fussed with his keys – thankfully they hadn’t been lost during his trek through the forest last night.

“This car is old.” Cas said bluntly, and Dean felt a small jolt of pain as his hand clenched involuntarily around his keys.

“But it is very well maintained.” He continued, oblivious to how close he’d gotten to being booted out of the car. “You must care for it very much.”

Dean smiled at Cas warmly, unclenching his fingers from his keys. He had a feeling that they would be getting along just fine.

**Author's Note:**

> So the fungus that is mentioned is a real thing! It's called Ophiocordyceps unilateralis and is the inspiration for the zombie virus in the video game "The Last of Us" which is briefly referenced by Sam. The mushrooms disappearing is a reference to the video game "Don't Starve" and afaik there is one species of mushrooms that appears to disappear during the day.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed reading my fic inspired by the fantastic art by Deli (delicious-irony)!  
> Find her on [Tumblr](https://delicious-irony.tumblr.com/post/185848779343/deep-in-the-forest-my-last-prompt-for-this-years), [Pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.social/posts/724500), and [AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19238548)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Deep In The Forest](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19238548) by [deli (deliciousirony)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/deliciousirony/pseuds/deli)




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